


It starts with blood

by SWModdy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: (it's early yet!), Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suspense, Touch-Starved, protective Qui-Gon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21749005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SWModdy/pseuds/SWModdy
Summary: Racing out into the night from his family, fleeing from those who should have protected him, Obi-Wan has no idea what he sets in motion.Years fly by as Obi-Wan learns at the feet of someone other than the Jedi or the Sith.
Comments: 56
Kudos: 445





	1. A bead of blood

Is it the fear that keeps him running despite the pain?

Is it the desperation that heaves in his chest?

Is it adrenaline, the thing grownups talk about because of the pain he’s suffering?

Or is it simply a willful stubbornness mixed with all the emotions?

Or maybe it is something more illusive that Obi-Wan has yet to figure out at eight years of age as he races through the grassy plains of Stirriva, the little town he lives in on Stewjon.

What Obi-Wan will know with surety years after is that if he had stopped, he would have died.

He can hear his biological father, _not dad, never dad, never so affectionate, only pain, only hurt,_ yell behind him in the pastures, can hear his biological mother, _not mama, so cold, so scalding, bruises and discolorations all over,_ wailing something but Obi-Wan will not stop, can not stop.

Not when he needs safety.

So his bare feet carry him through the fields, his breath harsh and painful through his mouth, his chest burning with his legs and he can not stop, will not stop.

There is no safety here, only tears and pain.

So Obi-Wan will run.

And he will hide.

He will hide from his father, from his mother, he will not be returned to them, not when _he_ needs safety and squinting through the tall grass and the darkness around him, he can see the cave.

Something pushes him and he turns for it, practically diving inside the cave as his bare feet bring him over the initial rough rocks, cutting the bottom of his feet before the floor suddenly turns smooth, as if someone has spent decades polishing it instead of it being a cave.

Obi-Wan does not stop.

He can not.

He is scared and something is pushing him forward into the darkness of the cave.

‘At the very least father will not find me in here, it’s too dark to see unless he brings a flash.’ Obi-Wan’s mind holds onto that thought hysterically before yelping as he falls, collapsing to the smooth, cold ground of rock below him.

On his knees and hand, Obi-Wan stares blindly down at his hands, eyes wide and his chest heaving and falling with the rapid beat of his heart like a thundering storm in his ears. And even as his body starts calming down, his breath comes fast and he remains on his hands and knees because he _feels_ the eyes in his neck.

Someone is watching him.

But that illusive thing in the back of his mind isn’t muttering in the warning that tells him to dodge or jump, it simply hums a steady tone that Obi-Wan can’t quite explain, as if it’s waiting as much as Obi-Wan.

Nothing happens, despite the eyes in his neck and the darkness seemingly getting tighter around him.

Pushing himself up onto his knees alone, Obi-Wan hissed in pain, feeling his hands and knees smart with pain.

Unseen in the dark, a bead of blood roll’s of the palm of his left hand and hits the smooth, cold floor.

Bright light instantly floods the ‘cave’.

Only it’s not a cave much to Obi-Wan’s surprise, not a cave anymore.

It’s a hall, a wide, glorious hall made of polished marble that shines with the light that has no source and Obi-Wan feels his eyes widen even more as he looks around, staring at symbols he can’t understand and statues he feels are vaguely familiar and yet not at the same time.

Something about them gives him hope, it reminds him of the stories the other children tell about _Jedi_.

But at the same time not.

“You’d be right about that little one.” A low, smooth voice echoed.

Obi-Wan jumped, forcing his tired and hurting body to it’s feet, looking around wildly as he brought his fists up. If there was one thing his father had at least bothered to teach him, it was how to throw a punch.

“Oh that won’t work here little one,” A lighter voice echoed, laughing faintly. “Though I give you kudos for bravery…hmm interesting, you activated the temple.” The voice continued.

Trembling faintly, Obi-Wan bit his bottom lip harshly, tasting blood from breaking the badly healed split. ‘Temple?’

“Shh, don’t tease him, can’t you see he’s already hurting,” A stern voice echoed, reminding Obi-Wan of the fishmonger’s wife. She had a mean left hook for anyone who tried to cheat her and a sharp tongue, though she always gave Obi-Wan an extra of the small fish with a wink. “It’s alright youngling, we aren’t going to hurt you.” The voice soothed.

Obi-Wan reluctantly relaxed until the first voice piped up again. “We could.” They chirped.

Both the second and the third voices chimed in a scolding tone. “Viruta!” There was something that echoed that sounded like slaps and the first voice yelping.

Blinking confusedly, shaking, arms wrapping around himself and ignoring the fact that he was staining his tunic with blood, Obi-Wan wondered what he had walked into, standing in the brightly lit great hall of black marble with golden symbols carved into pillars, unearthly light shining from nowhere and voices he could not see who belonged to speaking to him.


	2. The time goes on

Shifting slowly, Obi-Wan reluctantly woke to the world of the living, feeling exhausted and wanting to sleep still.

It was his cheat day as his masters said and it meant he could do whatever he wanted and that included sleeping in if he wanted to but after five years of routine, his body kept insisting on waking him at seven AM as if it was not his cheat day.

‘Just one of these days, I want to sleep in on my cheat day instead of waking up every week at seven AM on those too.’ He thought in sleepy annoyance as he curled his blankets more around himself, refusing to even entertain the idea of getting out of his bed of gathered furs and blankets.

“Awww, is our teenager cranky?” A teasing voice murmured and Obi-Wan grimaced before pulling the blankets more up around himself until his face was covered, the voice laughing but moving away to let Obi-Wan do as he wanted.

But now he was really awake and with a deep sigh, Obi-Wan pushed his covers away and rolled to the edge of the furs, sitting up and stretching slowly.

Sleep stiff, slow muscles slowly came alive and Obi-Wan grumpily reached for his boots, sticking his bare feet into the leathers before pushing himself up from the furs. It was times like this he wished they could get a mattress as his body felt sore but he knew it was hard to get things like that in the temple.

The old stuff had long ago rotted away before Obi-Wan came to live with his masters.

A soft flutter against his hair and a hum filled the old dormitory room. “Did Viruta wake you again little one? I told him to leave you be.” The voice murmured quietly if a bit sternly.

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan yawned. “I was awake before he arrived Master Patia. I figured I might as well eat.” He murmured, smiling when there was a soft chuckle.

“Well then, come along little one, I’m sure Martiza has already singled out which fruits are ripe for you and found where the lizards are keeping their eggs.” A soft, sheer shape came into view, Master Patia smiling indulgently down at him.

She was a very tall woman, her skin a soft purple even in her sheer state and her hair most likely a darker shade than her skin though Obi-Wan couldn’t quite tell her eye colors, maybe black. She was always dressed in flowing tunics and robes, her feet bare and if Obi-Wan were to take a guess, he’d say that was how she died, with her hair pulled up into a braided bun and bare foot.

He liked her, she was stern but fair and cared for Obi-Wan more than his own mother ever had.

Viruta on the other hand was a human male through and through and liked to play pranks, he was what Obi-Wan guessed a brother could be with his playful deposition.

Even though he didn’t have any siblings to really compare the somewhat dark skinned, bald man to with dancing purple eyes, wearing what Obi-Wan had learned was an ankle length robe with a tabard in a darker shade of red with golden symbols stitched on and a sash at his hips to give him shape.

Martiza was sweet and nice, the theelin sheer lavender skin with blue mottles on display as she wore only a tank top and leggings, her bright blue hair pulled up into a topknot with ample of tattoos covering her arms and even a few on her forehead horns. And she was also the one who remembered most that while they were ghosts, Obi-Wan was not and needed the comfort of the living.

Which was why she kept checking where to find food in the long abandoned temple of the Je’daii order.

The temple Obi-Wan had stumbled into, crashing into a Force nexus that transported him far away from Stewjon.

Now Obi-Wan’s home was on Tython and only what he could salvage from the Force nexus occasionally made his life easier, like the blankets and furs.

Food, however, was only what he could get from the temple and he was grateful that Martiza made sure where he could find lizard eggs, small lizards to cook and get to the fruit trees that grew into the temple from the outside, the outside Obi-Wan had never really seen except in glimpses through broken walls and windows as there was no way for him to get out of the temple just yet.

But he would, one day, one day Obi-Wan would get out.

Because he could not stay in the temple forever.

Master Patia’s hand passed through his shoulder, both pausing for a few seconds to stare at it before exchanging sad looks, one guilty and the other forgiving.

The ghosts had long ago theorized that Obi-Wan would become touch starved among them and Obi-Wan, as a young child, had not quite understood it.

As a teen, who had it explained to him quietly by Patia, he understood that his body was starving for physical contact, just as his stomach starved for food.

Eventually it could make him very sick.

Obi-Wan would get to the outside soon enough, but for now he would stay at his Masters ghostly feet and learn from all of them, take the lessons he had six days a week and enjoy his cheat day to do what he wanted even if there was no one else there for him to speak with except for his mentors in the way of the Force.

Considering no one was harming him… Obi-Wan thought that was a fair exchange.

After all, how bad could skin starvation really be?


	3. And on

He’s delivering a report when it happens.

A sheer shimmering shape comes into view, sending most of the council onto their feet in surprise as the shape is no holo and Qui-Gon steps back hurriedly, his hand falling to his saber out of instincts before registering that the Force is simply calm.

At ease.

And then the shape is clear, a woman, a keshiri if Qui-Gon was to take a wild stab and for some odd reason, he mostly took notice of her bare feet.

What he should have noticed noticed mostly was the sheer body.

Sheer, see through, the colors barely there.

A _ghost_.

She smiled and bowed lightly. “Greetings Jedi order, I am Master Patia Faci-Marta of the Je’daii order. I have favor to ask.” She had started with, throwing the council and a shocked Qui-Gon into a ruckus the man hadn’t seen since he had forsworn Feemor.

And that lead to this moment, standing in the bowls of the temple in dusty rooms lit by torches they brought with them, in long forgotten and unused rooms as they waited for a certain Obi-Wan Kenobi to come through a Force nexus prepared by the ghosts.

They had picked out one of the ancient ritual halls, Yoda and Master Patia doing it together as, according to her, it would be easier to set it up since parts of an old Je’daii temple had once been used to build this part of the temple.

And when they inspected the room after she left, they had indeed found some brickwork that had the ancient symbol of the Je’daii on it.

It was strange to think there were ghosts that existed of what came before the Jedi and the Sith, the originator of the Jedi order itself but honestly, Qui-Gon wasn’t sure if that was the strangest thing about it all.

Sliding closer to Mace, Qui-Gon raised a brow when he got the man’s attention. “Think they’ll manage this?” He questioned lowly, curious.

His words of course was caught by everyone but they were polite enough not to interject themselves into the conversation.

Mace shrugged, raising a hand to rub his chin. “Force ghosts of a long dead order, opening a Force nexus to send someone through. I mean, I’ve heard of strange things but…” He trailed off and Qui-Gon nodded.

They were the Jedi order, they heard of insane things all the times and not all of them were Force related after all.

But this was almost too much even for them to swallow!

And then this boy that was going to come.

Obi-Wan the _ghost_ had called him, telling the council and Qui-Gon, that they feared for his health, that living among ghosts were no way for someone to live and that they worried about skin starvation.

Not to mention the rest of his education.

Her request had been simple.

Train the boy.

Allow him into the temple and train him in the ways of the Jedi if so be, so that he could join others and be among those like himself.

And more than that, give him companionship that he sorely lacked.

According to Master Patia, this Obi-Wan had been isolated in the temple for the last seven years, having only been an abused child when he arrived and that had boiled Qui-Gon’s blood, hearing about this child’s own _family_ hurting him.

The ghosts had done what they could for him but could only do so much with no physical bodies and the idea of someone being seven years without a physical touch…

It disturbed Qui-Gon if he was honest, the child was bound to be touch starved even before he reached the ghosts if he was only used to his parents cruel touches.

Finally, everyone focused when the Force seemed to swirl and then what could only be described as a black portal of about four meter height appeared against the brick wall identified as having come from the Je’daii.

Qui-Gon held his breath, the Force suddenly humming in satisfaction in his ear and he wanted to look away to glance at the others but couldn’t.

Master Patia appeared by the portal, peering around before looking back and then… a foot came through, wearing a clearly well past it’s prime mended boot, followed by a hand and an arm wearing haphazardly patched tunic in gray and then came the rest of the body, sporting leggings in the same off gray with a black sash around his waist and a coil of leather that must be a makeshift belt with what was clearly a lightsaber hilt hanging on.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was not a child.

He was a young man of seventeen from the sight of it with darkish copper red hair that Qui-Gon would bet turned golden in the sun and bright green eyes, awkwardly standing beside his Je’daii master with a handmade leather bag in his hand, most likely possessing all his meager earthly possessions as the man looked around, both curious and wary.

The Force crooned even louder in Qui-Gon’s ear as Obi-Wan’s eyes finally meet his and Qui-Gon felt something _slot_ into place as green eyes widened.

Around them, the world continued, Yoda and Patia speaking but Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon didn’t look away from each other, one shocked to the core and the other confused and frightened despite only the confusion being apparent to everyone else.

But to Qui-Gon, the new _bond_ he had just gotten told him everything he needed to know about the young man standing in front of them.

Confused, scared and _sick_.


	4. Sickness beyond the visual

Shuffling in front of the man with the fresh bond throbbing lightly between them with new emotions that were quickly being shoved out of the way and shields being pulled into place by both, Obi-Wan peered uncertainly up at the tall Jedi as he left his old life behind but carried the knowledge his masters had imprinted.

Master Patia had promised that they would visit him from time to time but Obi-Wan couldn’t help but worry, he knew that it would take a lot of work for them to be able to appear.

It meant that he would have to gain a new network, a network of living people and it made Obi-Wan very uncertain despite all three gently assuring him that he would be doing so much better in the Jedi temple.

That he would socialize with others.

But they had also warned him not to fall too much into the Jedi mindset, lest he lose his balanced connection to the Force. Viruta had, for once, very seriously spoken to Obi-Wan about to complication of going either too far in either the dark or the light.

“There must always be balance. Day does not exist without night. Shadows need light. Heat would not be without coldness.” He had murmured seriously before running his static feeling hand over Obi-Wan’s cheek carefully.

They couldn’t really touch them, the touch was only a static sensation, like wind on his face or coldness breaking goosebumps out on his skin.

Now he wouldn’t have them daily and instead he had…

What did he have?

What did this bond mean?

He knew it was a bond, Master Patia had been explaining to him for years and years that he should have a bond to them but as they were dead, they were unable to grant him a proper learner bond.

But there were more bonds than just those.

So what did he just get to this man he did not know and had only just meet?

What did it mean?

Nervously, he bowed a bit, even as he kept his face as neutral as possible. “Greetings master…” He trailed off, questioning, peering up at the man.

The long haired man stared back at him before bowing slowly. “Master Qui-Gon Jinn, young Kenobi.” He murmured, his deep brogue soothing to Obi-Wan’s nerves on some level and yet there was something… something in the others eyes and face.

Reluctance.

Just a small smidge of it, mixed in with resignation.

It confused Obi-Wan admittedly as he blinked up at the man, tightening his grip on his bag before turning his head at a call of his name, turning to blink at Master Patia.

She smiled at him, wandering over. “I see you’ve already managed to find a master Obi-Wan, so quick. And a natural bond even.” She marveled softly before leaning in and pressing their foreheads together, the soft static tickling his skin as he stood perfectly still so not to fall through her.

He found it rude. But he also blinked in surprise as he realized what she said. “I did?” He murmured quietly, glancing at Qui-Gon Jinn from the corner of his eyes. “I have?” Obi-Wan blinked hard as he poked at the bond in question, murmuring a quick apology when the man flinched.

“Why, yes, it seems you do young Kenobi.” Qui-Gon murmured, elbowing the dark skinned man beside him.

And then he reached out and dropped his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

It felt like he had been electrocuted.

Like the time he had been trying to fix the filter machine in the temple on Tython and Viruta had accidentally turned the machine on with his proximity, electrocuting Obi-Wan.

It almost _hurt_ and yet Obi-Wan never wanted the man to remove his hand despite going ramrod stiff under the touch with wide eyes.

And by the way Qui-Gon’s own eyes widened before he slowly and steadily reached out with his other hand until he could pull Obi-Wan to his chest and curl that one around Obi-Wan’s back, slowly rubbing the back of his neck, the man had felt him through the slowly minted bond.

“Oh dear, you… you poor thing… it’s alright. Nothing’s going to hurt you here, you’re not alone here.” Qui-Gon murmured lowly, meant only for Obi-Wan with the bond between them opening enough for assuring emotions to suddenly be thrust at Obi-Wan even as he remained stiff against the man’s shoulder.

Trembling faintly, Obi-Wan stared into the beige folds, smelling tea and something musky along with a sweet under note as he pressed closer despite remaining stiff.

_This_ was a touch?

Had a touch _ever_ felt like this?

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched, the memory of his father’s fist something far off before he pressed his face into the folds and tried to relax, hands knotting into his new _master’s_ tunic.

He missed the concerned gazes of the Jedi and master Patia’s knowing yet heartbreaking one and just focused on the touch.

Focused on Qui-Gon touch and his and Patia’s soft voices as his body buzzed with the touch to the back of his head and his shoulder.


	5. All we can do

There is much to do when one gets a new padawan.

A new room has to be found, after all, knight rooms are only designed for one person and now there will be two people in one.

One has to get registered in the temple files, though Qui-Gon is rather sure that the council will handle that as they were there to see Obi-Wan become his padawan.

Normally the padawan has to move from the creche but Obi-Wan has virtually nothing, his bag is so small so what Qui-Gon needs is to bring the young man to the quartermasters instead, to get him almost everything.

The droid measures Obi-Wan and recounts to Quartermaster Huda what sizes he needs, medium tunics of all forms from under to overs, a standard sized sash, small leggings for adult, new boots, socks, underwear, sleepwear, over robes, gloves, and after a question to Obi-Wan, he’s allowed to peer through the rows and rows of clothes and pick himself out a few items on his own.

He returns with a scarf and a few colored tank tops, a nervous look in his eyes before relaxing when both Jedi simply smile at him as he adds it to the pile of clothes he needs.

Settling his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, Qui-Gon ignores the tense muscles beneath his touch and simply nods. “Get these delivered to my new quarters Quartermaster Huda, I will be in the Halls for a few hours so there is time to get everything there.” He murmured.

She nodded happily, already turning to her terminal with a cheerful signed goodbye as Qui-Gon gently pulled Obi-Wan along.

Happily, Micah and Tahl had agreed to transport his furniture and things to the new quarters while Qui-Gon stuck to Obi-Wan’s side, not wanting to leave the touch starved young man alone.

Honestly, Obi-Wan was an abrasion in the Force, his entire being rubbed raw by every touch bestowed on him and yet he craved it.

Oh, most wouldn’t notice that, Obi-Wan’s shields were honestly impeccable, but Qui-Gon had a direct line into the others head with those impeccable shields not doing much to stop the Master Jedi.

A side effect of a very new bond was sharing information between the two and with Qui-Gon _wanting_ to know and Obi-Wan not being used to a bond and uncertain how to implement his shields around it, Qui-Gon could experience every emotion Obi-Wan was feeling in the moment.

Obi-Wan was a knot work of conflicted sensations every time he was touched by something warm and living.

The droid he had been neutral to and at best curious, the ruin of a temple he had been at before most likely not having functioning droids from what Qui-Gon understood of the others living situation from before.

But when Quartermaster Huda had reached out to adjust the tape measurement, Obi-Wan’s emotions had gone static with an odd mixture of want, pleasure and yet pain at the same time.

Obi-Wan was just so touch starved, to the point being touched was almost pain to him and yet he wanted it at the same time, pretty much setting him in a bear trap with the desire for touch and yet struggling with the feeling.

Squeezing the others shoulder gently, feeling how Obi-Wan tensed and then relaxed in seconds, Qui-Gon sent him a small smile despite his reserve at having a padawan. “We’re going to the Halls of Healing now, they’re going to have to log into the temple archives, get a folder started on you. It’s going to take some time, they’re going to have to take a few samples and some measurements.” He stated quietly.

Pressing closer to Qui-Gon’s side, Obi-Wan let out a small noise of understanding. “What kind of samples and measurements?” He questioned before blinking and letting out a noise. “Master.” He tacked on the title.

Squeezing gently, understanding that Obi-Wan wasn’t used to speaking to many outside of his ghost masters, Qui-Gon just continued smiling, not taking the late title add on as any sign of disrespect. “Well, blood samples for one, maybe a spit one, urine potentially, some height measurement, weighing you… you don’t have any information in the temple young Obi-Wan, it means you have to be logged in with everything about you, especially if you have some kind of underlying cause, like malnutrition or vitamin deficiency. These things can be treated or if you have anything more serious.” Qui-Gon wouldn’t be shocked if Obi-Wan at least had one of those.

Frowning faintly, Obi-Wan nodded slowly as his being turned thoughtful.

To his relief, Obi-Wan didn’t try to argue with Qui-Gon, recognizing the wisdom of doing it now and also not arguing that he could potentially have vitamin deficiency.

From the understanding Qui-Gon had gotten from Master Patia, there wasn’t a lot of variation in the ruined temple.

‘But we’ll fix that… as best we can, we’ll get things working for you. I still do not know what I feel about having a padawan once more, even one as grown up as you, coming from the ancient Je’daii masters as you do, but I won’t let you suffer now that you’re here.’ Qui-Gon tightened his grip on Obi-Wan, stepping into the elevator and pressing the buttons for the Halls, giving Master Tholme a small nod.

The battle master gave him a nod in return, sending Obi-Wan a curious look that was returned with an equally curious look.

Qui-Gon would do his best.

Sometimes that would all one can do.


	6. Settling in

There are so very many things Obi-Wan Kenobi has to learn about the modern world and he’s very confused by many of them, confused, but appreciative.

Not only in the sense of technical advancement and things he just never got to learn like how to use the sonic fresher that Qui-Gon had to go through step by step or teach him how the laundry chute worked.

But also concept within the order, the culture of the temple, the people he was introduced to, the overwhelming amount of Force sensitive people, the general impression they left, the idea of light being dominant.

That one leaves a bad taste in his mouth and he’s often gotten into debates with Qui-Gon about it that basically boiled down to ‘the council says’ or ‘tradition dictates’ and that leaves an even worse taste in his mouth to the point he now debates with several of the more willing council members.

It tends to leave Obi-Wan with a headache and them looking thoughtful and bewildered.

He’s especially confused Yoda as what came from Obi-Wan, came directly from ancient members of the Je’daii temple, few years before the first Jedi were formed as Master Viruta could remember the whispers about a schism a few years before he died.

Talking about the council, thankfully, they have yet to assign them a mission as Jedi normally go on according to Master Qui-Gon, because Obi-Wan has a lot to learn about interacting with people still and skills that one needs in the modern world that Qui-Gon is doing his best to teach him.

They also discovered that Obi-Wan can not read or write _modern_ galactic basic.

Obi-Wan has learned the ancient dialects his ghostly family of Je’daii members has taught him, all three of them at one point working with him to teach him the alphabet, words and sentences as they wrote with coals from the fire that kept Obi-Wan warm and Obi-Wan repeated and learned what they wrote.

So that became yet another thing Obi-Wan had to learn before he could learn with the other padawans, a good long month of being taught before he cautiously entered classes, depending on where his assessment put him they either placed him with the youngest or his own age mates.

It was a bit odd sitting in a room with children half his age, trying to learn galactic law or making sculptures with the Force.

But survival classes, dueling, katas and literature now that he knew the basic was going splendidly for him, though less said about the writing part of literature and poems the better.

Obi-Wan did not like writing poems.

He did like reading them and had spent a full two minutes just staring at all the selves when Qui-Gon took him to the archive, eyes wide as he took in how big it was, filled to the brink with information as Qui-Gon just watched him in fond amusement before gently pulling him along out of the doorway so he wasn’t in the way for other Jedi

And he had even managed to make friends in the older classes!

Quinlan Vos and Bant Eerin were quickly becoming some of his best friends despite Obi-Wan being a bit socially challenged due to his prolonged isolation within the Je’daii temple, sometimes missing certain social cues, especially with Bant as he wasn’t familiar with the facial expression of a mon calamari.

He was learning though and making a new home in the Jedi temple, Master Patia, Viruta and Martiza visiting as often as they possibly could, making him feel even more at ease in the temple as his family wasn’t utterly gone.

Not everyone is as accepting of his presence at Qui-Gon’s side or in the order though.

Bruck Chun was a bitter and brute fellow padawan as was Obi-Wan’s title now, his braid tucked behind his ear and hidden in his shoulder length hair that Qui-Gon had carefully cut and then braided the little tail that showed he was a padawan.

“He’s jealous,” Quinlan had said when Obi-Wan brought the name up as they settled in to meditate in one of the gardens, popping a green berry into his mouth that he had snagged from one of the closest bushes. “He tried to become Jinn’s padawan himself when he was around twelve but failed and failed badly as Master Jinn wanted _nothing_ to do with him. He was almost sent away when Knight Krell took him on and I guess he’s still a jealous little bully twat.” He shrugged as Obi-Wan watched him in bemusement.

He’d have to look up what bully and twat was later on he decided before.

Or maybe ask Qui-Gon.

‘Wouldn’t hurt, he likes it when I ask questions.’ Obi-Wan mused to him, half smiling as he felt Qui-Gon’s excitement enter their bond, the older man clearly up to something.

For now, Obi-Wan decided that the best he could do was to continue learning and adapt to the world before he decided what his path in this galaxy was, his eyes fluttering shut as he let himself sink into the Force with a soft exhale.


	7. Adapt

For all that the world outside of the temple he grew up is very strange to him still, Obi-Wan will happily admit that he’s gotten a fondness for the soaps, the depil cream, clean clothes and the ease which he can now personally clean up.

Hygiene is a clear improvement and he enjoys it despite how confusing the tunic and wraps still are to him as he struggles working out the folds, mentally cursing out Quinlan for dunking him in the garden lake while sending a wordless inquiry to Qui-Gon through their bond.

He gets a ‘soon’ in response and slumps a bit, moving to the living room of their quarters to wait on the man to arrive.

Happily Qui-Gon doesn’t blame him for his ignorance and is happy to help him get it right when Obi-Wan can’t quite remember how the other had showed him to tie the entire thing off or straighten it.

Though to be fair, Qui-Gon made himself look sloppy on purpose, showing off his collarbone to everyone and with a wink to Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon had explained it made people underestimate him.

Apparently Qui-Gon gave off something he claimed as a ‘hippie’ vibe.

Obi-Wan didn’t… quite understand that reference, despite Qui-Gon explaining that it meant a person that didn’t conform and was free spirited.

When asked if that made Obi-Wan into a hippie, Qui-Gon’s eyes had widened before he threw his head back and laughed, loud and warm as he pulled Obi-Wan into a tight hug as he laughed.

It was like being shocked with electricity and yet it felt so soothing at the same time, Obi-Wan sinking into the warm embrace of the man as he laughed and laughed until it tapered off into a soft chuckle, his chest rumbling under Obi-Wan’s ear with his hands fisted into the tunic of the man.

‘Hugs are some of the things I like the most since I got to the temple, especially master Qui-Gon’s hugs.’ Obi-Wan mused to himself, settling tabards, sash and belt over the back of the couch before settling down on the couch to wait on the man, his undertunic was fine but that damn over tunic still being an issue, along with the sash and belt.

Finally the door slid open and Obi-Wan stood quickly while reaching out his Force sense, letting out a relieved breath when no one followed Qui-Gon in as the master hung up his robe and got his boots off.

Moving around the couch, Obi-Wan opened his mouth only to freeze, blinking at the gray crate with holes and a grate on beside the other man’s feet, about a hand taller than the Jedi’s ankle. Staring at it, Obi-Wan blinked heavily before looking up at Qui-Gon as the man straightened, his boots now on the small mat beside the door. “Welcome back master.” Obi-Wan said quickly, remembering his manners.

Picking up the crate with holes in it, Qui-Gon smiled slowly but warmly at him. “Thank you Obi-Wan,” He murmured, crossing the floor and setting the crate down on the caff table before turning expectantly to Obi-Wan. “Do you need help with your tunic again?” He chuckled out, eyeing the open over tunic.

Nodding, sparing the crate a curious glance, Obi-Wan stepped closer to the man. “Please, I tried but it kept coming out wrinkled and odd looking…” He flustered.

“Right under left.” Qui-Gon noted kindly, grasping Obi-Wan right tunic flap, tucking it tightly under the left before pulling the left side over and bringing the tabards over Obi-Wan’s head with one hand while holding the tunic shut with his other, using the Force to bring his sash over and wrapping it around Obi-Wan’s waist several times and then sliding the end into the sash to tie it off as Qui-Gon used his hands to straighten out the tunic and collar.

“…Can’t I use the Force to do this?” Obi-Wan sighed, feeling a bit overwhelmed with tunics, tabards, sash and belt, even as he reached for his belt to put it on himself over the sash, his saber hanging on it.

He startled a chuckle out of Qui-Gon, the man shaking his head a bit before the man settled a large hand on the duraplastic crate. “One shouldn’t but I won’t stop you from it. Now, I have something for you.” He tacked on, his smile turning a bit mischievous.

It reminded Obi-Wan of Virtua right before the man would pull a prank on Obi-Wan or one of the others.

It also made him a bit leery. “For me?” He cautiously ventured.

And then jumped behind the couch in surprise as a slight squeal came from the crate, eyes wide as he looked back down at it.

A pair of glowing eyes peered back at him from the grate opening of the crate, something _moving_ inside of it beneath Qui-Gon’s large hand, Obi-Wan able to sense a life form inside of the gray crate now that he focused on it.

“…Master, what is that?” Obi-Wan squeaked out.

Qui-Gon’s smile widened. “Your first proper gift in the temple.”

Eyes wide, Obi-Wan looked between the man and the crate with the eyes inside in bewilderment.


	8. A name

Shifting nervously, looking between the box and his master, Obi-Wan bit his bottom lip.

The sight had Qui-Gon softening, feeling Obi-Wan’s nerves as he knelt down, undoing the crate’s little door. “Surprises hasn’t been pleasant for you until now, has it Obi-Wan.” He noted kindly, getting a soft little grunt.

“Not… not really. The last surprise I had was when one of the halls caved in on me and prevented me from reaching the one garden I had access to in the ruins.” He stated quietly. Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to go outside of the Je’daii temple because of how much of a ruin it was.

It had been impossible to get out because of the way everything had caved in and while the ghosts could go outside, Obi-Wan’s only access to sunlight had been the holes in the roof that were too high up for him to jump even with Force enhancement.

Letting out a hum of understanding, Qui-Gon reached into the crate and pulled out…a rat.

A large rat that was easily the size of some of the tooka kittens Obi-Wan had seen around the temple, with big black eyes whiskers and small pawed feet.

However, compared to the gray and brown rats he had seen and eaten throughout his life, this one was a fetching shade of red from it’s head to it’s tail with it’s sleek fur, though after a second Obi-Wan watching with amazement as it shifted into blue and then back to a copper shade of red.

Smiling at the look, Qui-Gon stood and approached, holding the rat out for Obi-Wan to take, watching as the man gingerly took the rat to hold it on one arm, supporting it against his chest. “…This is a Milkyway rainbow rat, they’re breed as therapy pets that help people with various disabilities like touch starvation or sleep disorders.” Qui-Gon stated, gently running his index finger from the top of the rat’s head and down his back to the tail.

Watching with amazement, Obi-Wan stared as the tail wrapped around his wrist, showing it was prehensile as the rat placed it’s paws on Obi-Wan’s chest to lean up and sniff at him, big black eyes watching him as two rather silver looking teeth became apparent with how close it was to Obi-Wan’s face now.

“They are very loving animals,” Qui-Gon stated, bringing Obi-Wan’s attention back on him as the padawan held the rat to his chest. “They’ve been breed to be clever and helpful where you are not allowed to have larger animals, their teeth are strong enough to break durasteel and most metal and it’s fur…” He ran his finger along it’s back once more, the color shifting in a rainbow of colors.

Staring in fascination, Obi-Wan found he couldn’t decide who to look at more, the rat in his arm or his master. “I’ve… never seen a rat like this. I mean, we had rats on Typhoo but not this big or color changing.” He used the hand not supporting the curious sniffing rat to his chest to repeat the gesture Qui-Gon had done, tracing the spine while very pointedly not saying anything about eating said rats when he could catch them.

An array of colors meet the action and Qui-Gon chuckled quietly. “They’re pouch rats, I imagine you only had common rats back on the island that got into the temple. Pouch rats store food in the pouches of their mouth. He’s yours to have Obi-Wan, to care for and be responsible,” The man paused, watching him closely as Obi-Wan blinked at him. “You aren’t unaware of the amount of issues you have Obi-Wan, he’s to help you. Pets can aid with panic attacks, with touch starvation and many other issues and he is trained for such things.” Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan peered at the animal for a long moment.

Biting his lips, Obi-Wan stared into the black eyes before smiling slightly. “Thank you. Master Patia, Viruta and Martiza tried their best but…” Qui-Gon held up his hand, interrupting.

“As ghosts, they could only do so much,” He rumbled, resting his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and smiling sadly when he instantly shifted closer. “I commend them for what they have done but there were limits. Your masters did their best, now we and I in particular, have to help you with the rest and help you adjust to the world outside of the island and temple ruin you grew up on.”

Having nothing to say to that, Obi-Wan only nodded mutely as he focused on the animal that was curling up against his chest, smiling slightly to himself at the feeling of something warm trusting him so, he didn’t have the luxury of something like this back at the temple and the shifting of the colored fur was amazing to watch.

“However, our new friend here needs a name,” Qui-Gon announced, his voice warm as Obi-Wan focused back on the master. “I figured you would like to give him a name since he’s yours.” The Jedi explained.

‘A name? I’ve never named something before…’ Obi-Wan blinked heavily, glancing back down at the creature cuddled up in his arms, the warmth of it reaching through the layers of cloth as it breathed contently, his eyes shut in an almost lazy fashion. “A name…”


	9. Thy name, Iri

Watching the Jedi council as he stood at Qui-Gon’s side with the warm sunlight streaming in through the large windows, Obi-Wan suppressed his desire to smile when he felt his robe move where he had done his own edit to the garment this morning.

The pocket containing his pet.

In the end, he had named him for Iri, which was short for Iridescence, due to his color changing nature and after a bit of holonet searching, which had been overwhelming if he was honest and he had needed Qui-Gon’s help quite a bit, Obi-Wan had also been able to find an instruction on how to sew a pocket for the animal on inside his robe.

Apparently a common practice for the people who had these pouch rats, since most of them were therapy pet and not just pets bought at random or given to children.

And because they were highly intelligent and easily trained, they had been breed by certain core members throughout the centuries to produce the perfect rats to make them perfect pets for anyone that could stand rodents.

That however also made it impossible to integrate these particular rats back into the wild.

The wild versions of these rats were smaller to make hiding easier, their fur were tougher and coarser and their coloration were a lot muter than the sharp shade of red, yellow, blue and purple Obi-Wan got to see Iri turn.

It made sense but it was also saddening in a manner as it meant that a mutation in the species had been breed and breed and breed until they got what was most ‘desirable’ to sell them to the public and while Obi-Wan was grateful to have Iri, it also saddened him so much to see the exploration of the species.

Qui-Gon had quietly informed him of such practice in farming, pet trade and such that left certain animals practically breed to ruins for the most ‘profitable’ result.

It had not been a pleasant conversation.

But Iri at least was in perfect health and from a well reputed trader that didn’t engage in bad practices from what Qui-Gon told him.

He was inclined to believe Qui-Gon honestly, the man was always willing to debate with Obi-Wan, listening to the teachings his new, rather unique padawan had.

He had been particularly interested in how in the world the ghosts had taught Obi-Wan if they couldn’t touch.

That however was a misunderstanding Obi-Wan had to explain.

They could touch the world, work with the Force…but not for prolonged moments.

All three of them effected the living world to some degree with Patia being the strongest and able to move physical things around, sometimes even large rocks though she would need rest after that, she had once opened up a well when in the first three years of Obi-Wan’s life in the temple, water had become an issue.

She had been invisible for two weeks after that, Viruta having to take over and using the letters they had already written to teach Obi-Wan new words as her voice was the only thing that reached Obi-Wan.

His ghost family had tried with what they had, fetching items like clothes and occasional food items through Force nexus that connected to other places but there was only so much they could do as Qui-Gon had said, they had done their best.

Tried their best to provide for a child they hadn’t been prepared to take in that had landed in their mist.

‘And I am well taught,’ Obi-Wan mused to himself before sneakily sliding his hand through the large sleeve to gently rub Iri’s head inside the robe, pinching the robe sleeve with the other one to make it seem like he was still standing with his hands inside each sleeve. ‘My, these sleeves are so large, I could hide so many bread rolls inside it…’ He mused with some amazement before jerking a bit as he noticed how quiet it was with everyone looking at him, flushing when he glanced at Qui-Gon to see the amused look on his face.

“Caught in your own thoughts padawan?” He chuckled, mildly fond of tone and his eyes glittering with emotions that he didn’t quite know how to read or feel through the bond even as Obi-Wan’s flush deepened until his ears and neck were surely a deep red more akin to the blood deep color Iri turned.

Clearing his throat, master Windu got their attention, his eyes on Obi-Wan with his lips twitching faintly with suppressed amusement. “Your master seems to feel that you may be able to handle some missions away from Coruscant, as long as it’s not in any major metropolis with too many people or creatures. And the healers also feel that you may do good with coming away from Coruscant for a bit as you are more used to a life on a planet with… less pollution,” That was one way of putting it Obi-Wan mused to himself. “But what do you say Padawan Kenobi? Do you feel ready to take on a mission?” The master of the order leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

Rubbing Iri’s head while feeling Qui-Gon’s support in their bond, Obi-Wan smiled shyly before nodding. “I do believe I might be ready masters, I defer to the wisdom of my elders and I do feel like I might be able to handle some under Master Qui-Gon’s guidance.” He stated, feeling excitement in his veins.

It was time for another step into the galaxy.


End file.
